


A Celebration

by Alley_Skywalker



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, First Time, M/M, Oral Sex, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-16 13:42:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4627431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alley_Skywalker/pseuds/Alley_Skywalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus will be Marked soon, and Lucius proposes they celebrate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Celebration

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raktajinos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raktajinos/gifts).



“Come here, Severus.” Lucius reaches out a hand, his long fingers pale and luminous in the light of the sitting room fireplace. 

Severus inches closer. His entire body responding to the silky notes in Lucius’ voice. He feels the touch on the nape of his neck like a sharp sting – cold and biting. Commanding. All of Severus’ biting comments are lost somewhere in the depths of Lucius’ icy grey eyes. He had always felt like this in Lucius’ presence – insecure and childish, as though he never quite made it out of puberty. In his more confidant moments, Severus likes to think that he is brighter than Lucius, sharper in his understanding of Dark Magic, more precise in his wandwork. But whenever he is actually _near_ Lucius, all of that goes away and Severus is just an adolescent boy with a crush.

Being at Malfoy Manor does not help. The riches of the Purebloods had always held Severus captive in a way he is ashamed of admitting. Lucius’ lithe grace seems to increase exponentially when he is inside the wards of his family home. The rich, dark fabrics of the carpets and the walls, the mahogany wood panels and delicately cut furniture, the diamonds on the chandeliers, and the casual aura of ancient power that permeates the place makes Severus both hate and adore being there. 

He knows who he is. He knows what it means to be a half-blood from a poor family. And he _despises_ it. 

Lucius hands him a glass of blood-red wine and smiles that aloof half-smile that makes Severus’ body ache with desire. “I know why you’re here,” Lucius drawls. “All the High Officers have heard, seeing as Antonin cannot keep his mouth shut when one of _his boys_ manages to achieve favor.”

Severus scowls. His commanding officer has ruined the surprise. “The Dark Lord wishes I be Marked. But as you said, you already know.” He keeps his tone even, attempting to imitate the aloofness of Lucius’ expression. 

“That is why we are celebrating.” Lucius nods at their wine glasses. “To your Vows, Severus.” Lucius drinks. 

Severus follows suit. The mulled wine is half-sweet, half-bitter. It seeps into him, spreading like a potion through his veins. The warmth is almost comforting. “Is this the only way you plan to celebrate?” Severus asks, pushing his luck. Smirking. 

Lucius raises a delicate eyebrow. “Is it a splendid dinner you would prefer? Duck and stuffed pigeon, sweets and crepes with raspberry syrup?” 

Severus flushes. Lucius is teasing him, letting him know just how much Severus is still a child. Severus – brilliant and morose, selfish and closed-off – had never had the upper hand in this relationship. He could gain favor with the Dark Lord and respect from his friends – though they be richer and better adjusted than he – but he could never make Lucius Malfoy lose control. That was one kind of power not in his reach. _Not yet._

Lucius runs one hand over Severus’ neck and up into his hair. Severus can feel the shivers erupting along his back. He _wants_ Lucius. He always had. “There are other things I want,” he says, a little hoarsely. 

“Oh?” Lucius closes the gap between them. He sets aside his glass – almost daintily – before pressing his lips against Severus’ and kissing him slowly, deeply. It is not a tender kiss despite its leisurely pace. It is possessive and assertive. Severus closes his eyes, letting go of his own glass. It falls to the carpeted floor but does not shatter. They both ignore it.

Lucius draws back and studies Severus for a moment. It the half-gloom of the room, he is like a statue – imposing, half-real, the edges of his angular chin and shoulders standing out in perfectly sharp lines. “I think you do deserve a reward, Severus. The Dark Lord’s favor is not a trivial thing after all.”

Severus can feel the tightness in his groin, the desperate longing for _more._ Lucius has long teased him with unspoken promises – all the touches and kisses and softly hissed words against his ear. Severus does not know if what they have been doing counts as a relationship, but it is good enough for him if he could _just_ … 

“Narcissa and I had a little conversation,” Lucius continues, obviously not noticing Severus’ agitation. “She, of course, would have preferred if I waited until my heir was born but I managed to convince her that our affair was a fact before she and I were married, so there really is no harm. Naturally, she is simply upset that she must wait longer to indulge her own pleasures.” 

Severus swallows. He knows how these things go among Purebloods. With the number of arranged marriages in Pureblood families it is not uncommon for a husband and wife to come to an agreement about extramarital affairs of both parties. Typically, it is considered in poor taste to have an affair of any sort before the heir is born, but not unfathomable if the partners are of the same sex. 

Lucius’ smile sharpens, his eyes darkening as a predatory light fills them. “I think we have waited long enough. Would you like such a celebration more?”

“I would.” Severus feels Lucius’ hands on him and a moment later the backs of his knees hit the sofa. He makes a low, moaning sound as Lucius undresses them with a flick of his wand. Severus finds himself looking straight at Lucius’ length, large and erect. He reaches out and closes his hand around it, running his fingers lightly up the shaft. 

Lucius lets out a strained moan. “ _Severus—_ “

“No,” Severus says, his voice coming out far more calm than he thought it would. “Wait.” He slips off the couch and onto his knees. In the firelight, Lucius’ pale skin almost glows. Half of his face is in shadow, making Severus think of a God or a work of art. He leans forward and closes his mouth around Lucius’ cock, taking him in as deep as he dares on the first try. 

Lucius fists his hand in Severus’ hair, his eyes bright and feverish. “Yes, oh yes,” he draws out, his delight obvious even through the ragged pace of his breathing. Severus imagines Lucius must like this – having a half-blood boy on his knees before him. It must make him feel strong and powerful. _For now._

Guided by instinct and his own desire to hear Lucius moan, Severus begins to move, picking up a steady rhythm, long strands of his dark hair falling into his face as his head bobbs relentlessly. He runs his tongue over the length of the shaft, swirls it around the head and listens intently to Lucius’ responses. 

Responses, which are blissful. Lucius, head thrown back, makes the most exquisite moaning sounds. He breaths out Severus’ name and pleas for more. His hips buck forward, even as he presses Severus’ head closer. Slowly, very slowly, Lucius Malfoy is coming undone at the seams. 

Severus finds all the delicate spots, runs his long, nimble fingers over the inside of Lucius’ thigh so that the latter has to grab hold of the sofa’s armrest as his knees begin to buckle. Severus can soon taste the salty pre-cum in his mouth. Just as Lucius is nearing his climax, Severus withdraws, a corner of his mouth quirking upwards. “I’m not quite sure why _I’m_ the one on my knees when we should be celebrating _my_ achievements.”

Lucius, struggling to take deep breaths and regain control of himself, sneers darkly, “I thought you wanted this?”

“But you want me to finish more.”

Lucius’ eyes narrow and for a thrilling moment, Severus anticipates that Lucius might grab him and fuck him hard against the sofa as punished for daring to be insolent. Instead, Lucius says, “Severus. Come now.”

Severus scowls. He does not want Lucius to coolly reason with him. He wants the Pureblood to beg and plead. “I will if you ask nicely,” Severus murmurs. He reaches out and cups Lucius’ balls, running the pad of his index finger feather-light over the most sensitive spots. 

Obviously, this is the last straw. With a pained expression, Lucius hisses, “Please.”

“I said nicely.”

Lucius throws his head back and thrusts forward, his control abandoning him, drowned out by the need to come. “Please, Severus,” he repeats, in something sounding more like an actual request. It would do. Hearing Lucius plead makes Severus’ own vision blur with desire. He takes Lucius into his mouth once again, and this time he does not stop until the latter spills his seed deep inside Severus mouth, letting out a guttural, uncultured moan, deep and loud. It echoes through the high-ceilinged chamber and Severus smiles in satisfaction. 

Finally, he is the one in control in this relationship. Even if for a split second. That is the best congratulations he could have asked for.


End file.
